


The Other

by shlechter_wolf



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Homestuck
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-29
Updated: 2021-01-02
Packaged: 2021-03-09 20:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 8
Words: 19,754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27782002
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shlechter_wolf/pseuds/shlechter_wolf
Summary: Four young magicians go to the their first lection of othermagic, secret art kept away from most wizards. The woman in red is scattering fragments of frozen space across the multiverse. In the trailer, the shaman sleeps sweetly, and she will one day link the two realities together. On the coast of the Sea of Names, the disciple of the witch meets the sunset. In a post-apocalyptic world, a free mercenary's car is racing forward. And they are all heroes of the same story, this text is about their destinies, and also about the fate of worlds and universes, their birth and death, what is the purpose and destiny, about freedom and fate, about nightmares and madmen, and about other things. Of course, about other. This is a story about unreality, about magic and the price of freedom, about how the fabric of life is woven from the threads of human hopes, and about the one who weaves it.
Kudos: 2





	1. First lecture

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Иное](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/719140) by Матемаг. 



The office located in a dungeon was dark and empty. There was a thick layer of dust on the floor. The four stood in front of the door, not daring enough to enter. Finally, Ginny Weasley said decisively:

"Let's clean it up since the teacher is late!"

"I'm never late," the flat voice made everyone start and turn around. Indeed, a man in his forties, with a hooked nose and clear green eyes that seemed to glow in the dim light, seemed to have been standing there for a long time.

“And you, dear students, do not have enough patience.” Ginny blushed a little and exclaimed:

"But it's filthy! How are we going to study in this class?”

“Filthy?” the teacher chuckled in disbelief. “Not at all. I beg to differ.” And he was the first to enter... a clean and tidy classroom. Not a single speck of dust, brightly burning candles, warmth and comfort.

"You cleaned it nonverbally, sir?" suggested Ginny.

"I didn't touch my wand," the teacher said with a slight smile. “Take a seat in the first row. This year I have a lot of you — four people, just incredible!” He shook his head ruefully. “Year on year is not necessary. So,” a wave of the wand, and a journal appeared in front of the teacher, another wave – and it opened. “Who has signed up for me? Duffy, Anthony, Slytherin. I remember your father, he was an outstanding wizard.”

"Was he your student, too, sir?" Anthony, a dark-haired boy with pale skin, asked incredulously.

"Absolutely," the teacher nodded sharply. "A capable student, too bad he was more interested in charms. Oh, I know what you mean! Of course, I'm older than I look, much older. Not all things are what they seem – that's the rule of my discipline, Mr. Duffy. M-m-m, whom do we have next? Fergusson, Graham, Hufflepuff. I don't know your parents, Mr. Fergusson…”

"They're not wizards!" he added after a pause. “Sir.”

“Very interesting,” the same light smile slid across the teacher's lips. “Usually my subject is visited by families, even from childbirth. I hope your children will come to me, too," he said, looking down at the journal. “Of course, miss Lovegood!”

"You're very real, sir," said Luna, looking through the Professor with bleary eyes.

"Do you think I should become more ghostly, miss Lovegood?" he looked at her with interest.

"No need, sir.” She giggled at something.

"Thank you for the compliment, miss Lovegood. I know your father, mother, and grandfather. It would be blasphemous if you didn't sign up for my class. Well, the last one in our set is Weasley, Ginny, Gryffindor. Very good, miss Weasley, why are you here is not entirely clear. You're the first person in your family to take my class, and I'm interested in the reason."

"Why, sir?" Ginny frowned. “I'm only here because Professor McGonagall told me not to refuse! How can it be that no one knows about your subject and also don't see it on the list?”

"You're exaggerating, miss Weasley. Every year, one or two students notice my subject and ask the teacher. Usually, they are Ravenclaw, rarely Slytherins and Hufflepuffs, very rarely — Gryffindors. Oh, wait, don't overreact! I'm not belittling your House at all, it's just that people from Gryffindor are usually talented in other areas. The dissimilarity of temperament, let's say. That's what I'm seeing right now, miss. Tell me, did something... special happen to you? Close contact with a Ghost, say? Perhaps you were attacked by a Banshee? Or have you looked into an ancient dark magic mirror?”

"...Yes, it was— " Ginny said after a few seconds, her face slightly downcast.

"Any of the above?"

"A Ghost," Ginny said quietly. "An unusual Ghost.”

“Of course, unusual!” the teacher exclaimed. “Very, very unusual! Don't worry, I won't ask you in detail. Another rule of my subject: there are secrets that should not be disclosed to the uninitiated. Are you writing this down? Oh, no? Take out the parchments and write that down. ‘There are secrets that should not be shared with the uninitiated.’ Who are the uninitiated? For simplicity — all those who were enrolled in my course. We will discuss this issue in more detail later. Hm, earlier I voiced another rule, even more important: ‘Not all things are what they seem when first seen, heard and touched.’ Have you got that? Wonderful. Now, allow me to introduce myself: Ethan Rice, the permanent and irreplaceable Professor of Unreality! Before I start my introductory lecture on the subject, perhaps you have some questions… Yes, miss Weasley?”

"Why haven't I ever seen you at the faculty table, sir?" asked Ginny, still annoyed.

"Well, Professor Trelawney doesn't go there very often either," Rice said. "But that's not really the reason. The fact is that what I said is absolutely true: you didn't see me. I hope that at the end of the year you will see me all the time, perhaps not only in this office or in the Great hall, but also at random meetings.”

"Do you wear an invisibility cloak?"

"No, no, and no again! An invisibility cloak is an artifact, miss Weasley, a charm that is connected, intertwined with objects, short-lived, eroding – expensive if you buy it, a chore if you do it yourself. Experienced magicians use invisibility or disguise spells, but they have nothing to do with it. It's getting easier and harder, miss Weasley. It's hard to notice things that aren't quite real. Wait! Remaining questions after the lecture. You don't have to write down the lecture, except for the rules – you must know them by heart.”

Professor Rice took a glass of water out of the air, drank it slowly, and continued:

“So, othereallity. It is generally believed that the magical world differs from the Muggle world not only in the presence of magic and magical creatures but also in something more... ephemeral," Rice gestured smoothly - so that if you looked at it, you could forget yourself and fall into a trance. Ginny and Graham shook their heads in unison. Anthony mentally compared it to Binns. No, it doesn't look like him. "Ghosts and portraits of long-dead people. Sacred and mystical places. Magic mirror. Mind reading and memory modification.”

“Expansion of space. Prophecies and divination. Ephemeral objects that change shape with a single swipe of the wand. The atmosphere, the mindset of magicians, which Muggles call cranks, even if they are well acquainted with the world of magic. Some of you,” a glance at the room. "—are more immersed in this atmosphere, and some," Ginny lowered her eyes. “—are less so. Most magicians don't pay attention to this. They don't see it as anything special. They don't notice the subtleties. They consider it commonplace. But that is not so! Perhaps, for the first time, the most ancient magicians, those who were ordinary people's priests and prophets, drew attention to this. Then it was unknown, alien to the familiar reality that was given much more attention, and rough and strong magic was less developed. It was easier to enter a man's dream and kill him there than to create a poison that would overpower a bezoar. Summon the spirit of retribution rather than attack with an explosive spell. Go through the other side of the world than Apparate. Find out the answer in the beyond, not send a scout in an invisibility cloak. Why don't they do this now? Does anyone know?”

"Is this dark magic?" Graham suggested hesitantly.

"Of course not!” exclaimed Rice. “Othermagic is the same in most legal magic as in dark! Dark magic is just an agreement. What? Have you not been told about this? Oh, that's easy. Even before the Statute of secrecy and the creation of ministries of magic, there were certain... world organizations of wizards. In one of them, spells that lead to the most terrible consequences were called dark - included because of a certain... shade. I will not go into details, but dark magic is not called that for nothing and is not recommended for use for anything. I would allow myself to compare it to a non-conventional Muggle weapon, but I'm afraid you won't understand what it is. Anyway, magic can be of different colors, and since ancient times the darkest shades were restricted or forbidden. The boundary from which magic was considered dark often changed, but there is also a magic that has always been forbidden. What? No, not unforgivable curses. They are lighter and have often been resolved. For example, in nineteen forty... but let's not get distracted. Are there any other suggestions as to why unreal is not being used en masse now?”

"Worse than ordinary magic?" Anthony suggested.

"Depends on what you mean, Mr. Duffy."

"Well it's easier to pour poison than to fall into someone else's dream, to Apparate than... to go through the wrong side of the world, didn't you say so?"

"No, I didn't say that," the teacher said, shaking his head. “I said it was the opposite before. Now, these methods are largely equal. In some ways, classical magic cannot be replaced by another. But in some ways, the classics are powerless, unlike othermagic, the magic of my discipline. More opinions?”

"It's dangerous, sir," Ginny finally decided. “Your discipline is very dangerous, and ordinary magic…”

"...isn't ordinary magic dangerous? Let me tell you that dozens of mages around the world die every year from misplaced spells. Or from improperly-executed battle magic. I'm not talking about dark magic or the most classic artifacts! However, the same can be said about us who practice unreality, careless use of magic is threatened by permanent injury and death. In a sense, othermagic is still safer: something... irrevocable happens less often – " a shadow flickered across his face for a moment. "No more guesses? Miss Lovegood?”

"There are fewer of us," said Luna, in a low, sad voice.

"Bravo, miss Lovegood, five points for Ravenclaw. Classical magic is used more often because there are far fewer talented ones in othermagicians. The best wizards looked for an answer to the question of why this happened – but they never found it. We even had to develop a special technique, thanks to which you came to me. Fortunately, there are no fewer of us anymore – for the last two hundred years, my subject has received about the same number of students every year."

“Unfortunately, this makes it necessary to compress the curriculum. I am the only one in all othermagic – and once there were no fewer teachers than in the classics! In this lecture, I will describe to you the areas that othermagic deals with, and then we will begin to study them. Please take notes. The first and most important area that everyone else is dealing with is unreality. Points of contact of imagination, vision, thought, and emotion with matter and classical magic. The first sphere of unreality describes the mechanics, the mechanisms of the unreal. We will start studying it this year. The second sphere is a reflection of the real. We will study with magic mirrors, all sorts of undersides of the familiar and their inhabitants, sometimes very dangerous. The third sphere is time. I will tell you about the halo of the future and the past of things and what phenomena is and how you can contact it, and we will also consider prophecies, fate, and predestination.”

“Yes? Oh, have you been to Professor Trelawney's class yet, Mr. Fergusson? You see, there is some difference between what we will be going through and what a respected Professor teaches. The subject of divination is somewhat similar to astronomy. You look at the stars and planets, trying to predict their behavior and how it will affect the course of events and magic. Astrology is part of divination, right. We will not look from afar, we will touch with our hands, which is much more dangerous, but also much more effective. In addition, divination is directed exclusively to the future, while the sphere of time is connected with both the past and the future – and even with the present, in particular, clairvoyance belongs to this sphere."

"There are two other areas that we will only touch on during the third, fourth, and fifth years – other realities and the depths of our minds. The fourth sphere describes what any magician of unreality encounters at least once in his life – with realities that lie beyond our own, from the almost impersonal to the completely unimaginable and categorically insane. The fifth sphere is visions and dreams, the conscious and the unconscious, our inner self and its penetration into the world of matter and unreality. The fourth and fifth areas will be discussed in detail if you agree to attend my subject during the sixth and seventh years."

“Yes, Mr. Duffy? Oh, the fifth sphere. No, spells like Imperius, Obliviate, and Confundus don't apply to it. This magic may not be purely classical, but it is not othermagic, although certain... parts of othermagic may be present in them. By learning the fifth sphere, you can cast these spells with greater accuracy, but not more. What? Ah, Legilimency and Occlumency! Of course, they belong to the fifth sphere, but not entirely – there are also classic ways to get into the mind of a person or protect yourself from such penetration: the spell "Legilimens", for example, and you can defend against it with the help of “Protego”.

“So we're done with the spheres. In general terms, you can imagine what we will study... in fact, you can't imagine anything, ". The thin smile continued to roam Rice's lips, and there was something... unreal about it. Something frightening and yet alluring. “You need to feel, to see, to touch, to encounter otherreality face to face, you can't study it in theory. And don't trust too much about othermagic from what you hear from your fellow students – it's still difficult for you to distinguish between legends and real,” he chuckled, “or unreal events.”

“This was the end of our lecture. I'm not going to give you the writing task, the main literature on unreality is in the restricted section, and even that is incomplete. It's too early for practical tasks. Instead, I will give you a simpler and, at the same time, more complex task. Don't let it slip. You must keep your mouth shut. Unreality is not something you can speak of with the uninitiated, even the best of friends. You can try,” he narrowed his eyes, "but without success. For those who will be able to hold back, I will award thirty points. Good luck.”

And then he just disappeared. No popping sounds, like during apparation. He just was, and then he wasn't. At the same time, the class changed. The light dimmed, except for the door, which was ajar. Ginny sneezed loudly from the dust and shouted along with Graham, waving her wand:

“Tergeo!”

The dust was gone, but there were other signs of desolation… Missing candles. Old desks. Cracks in the walls. Cobwebs in the far corners that the cleansing spell couldn't reach.

"Wow," Graham said softly, looking around.

"Rice wasn't lying," Anthony said. "He didn't touch the wand." For a moment, Ginny thought Anthony was Tom, Tom Riddle. The tone was so similar... “Let the othermagic be our trump card.”

"Keep walking, keep walking," Luna intoned, and left the classroom.

"Better keep quiet," Ginny said, and followed her.

“Graham?”

"I... okay," he said, uncertainly.

"You heard him," Anthony said. “You can't tell about it anyway."

And went out. Graham Fergusson looked around once more, cast a couple of cleaning spells to clear the cobwebs, and left the classroom in some confusion – the last one.  



	2. Unreal

Of course, Ginny could not believe that she knew virtually nothing about unreality. She grew up in a family of hereditary magicians and thought that magic would not surprise her! At least in general – she knew things about magic that most half-breeds didn't know. Her parents made sure that she didn't go where she didn't need to; Mother taught her the flying evil eye, just in case. But not a word about the magic of unreality. Nothing at all. It was very unpleasant to feel that she didn't know something so important... so dangerous... so connected to Tom. She needed to know more! But how?  
It was unlikely that many people knew about unreality. And it was useless to ask directly – why would Professor Rice lie? She remembered her own questions to her friends – they had forgotten what they were talking about in five minutes. Why didn't she think to ask Luna? Of course! It was late today, lights out soon, but tomorrow…  
Ginny hadn't been herself since morning. "Got off on the wrong foot." Here and there she saw a grinning Tom – that's exactly who knew about unreality! But Tom couldn't be questioned. Even if it was possible, she wouldn't agree. Tom... no, don't think about him!  
"Is everything all right? You haven't been yourself since this morning," Lorina, one of Ginny's roommates, asked solicitously. Not that Ginny was friends with her, but rather lorina was friends with Ginny. Ginny pretended to do the same. After all, it was so easy!  
"I have aa headache," she said.  
"Go to Pomfrey's before class. We have double Transfiguration, I'll tell Professor McGonagall…”  
Ginny winced at the thought of a headache. "You know Pomfrey's going to make me spend a night in the hospital wing again.”  
At breakfast, she stared intently at the faculty table, but there was no sign of Professor Rice. Yeah, he said about the end of the year. But she wanted it now! To understand this othermagic and to find out what Tom did with her. "You're in good health, miss Weasley, just a little exhausted," Madam Pomfrey had said. But she was a doctor, not an othermagician!  
After Transfiguration, Ginny hurried to Ravenclaw's living room, constantly looking around – Tom's visions were no longer there, but she was afraid to see him again. Halfway there, Luna came out to meet her.  
“Hi, Jean," she smiled absently, and Ginny sensed that this was not her usual absent-mindedness, "You're thinking too seriously. The wrackspurts are gone!  
"Luna, let's go!" She almost dragged her childhood friend into the nearest empty classroom and locked the door with colloportus. “Tell me everything you know about unreality. I really need information!”  
"You think too much about it," Luna repeated, suddenly serious. "If you think too much about it, it will become real.”  
"What?" Ginny remembered Tom's arrival. She had heard those words, she just couldn't move: "I absorbed her deepest fears, her most secret secrets, and filled myself with life's juices, becoming stronger, stronger." Deep-seated fears! “But he's dead!" Ginny exclaimed. “The diary is destroyed!”  
"I don't know what you're talking about, Ginny," Luna said calmly. "You're so afraid of someone that you don't stop thinking about them for a minute. The more thoughts you have, the more real he will be," and she opened her eyes so wide that they seemed about to fall out of their sockets. “Don't think about him, okay?”  
Ginny froze. The more you think about it, the more real Tom will be? So this isn't just a vision? Don't think. Don't think…  
"How can I not think?" She asked Luna, not really hoping for an answer.  
“Think about Wrackspurts."Ginny suddenly realized that Luna had never spoken seriously and calmly for so long before. "When I was a child, I thought too much about my mother.”  
"Oh, Luna…”  
"She was coming back. But she wasn't a mom. Scary and angry all the time! Dad taught me how to think about wrackspurts, and non-mom left," and then she changed her tone.  
And before Ginny came to her senses, Luna opened the door (but... colloportus?) and left the classroom. Ginny herself imagined that Luna's mother had suddenly become like Tom. So, think about Wrackspurts? It helped Luna…

The week passed quickly. Four students who had signed up for an unusual subject met at the same office. As soon as they entered, the office changed abruptly. The windows disappeared. Instead of candles, there were torches burning blue. The door was massive, metal – and closed. Instead of the pale stone of the Hogwarts interior, the room was darkened and cracked with age. The only things that hadn't changed were the desks, but instead of the teacher's desk, there was an oak lectern where Ethan Rice stood.  
“Good evening. I've changed the setting a bit to something more fundamental and old-fashioned. According to your progress: thirty points to Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff. Mr. Duffy, I understand you, but I was interested in your self-control, not your savvy. Some knowledge is more dangerous than most spells – some knowledge can be applied unconsciously. You did well, miss Weasley, but distraction is not the best method. We'll deal with your problem later – as well as miss Lovegood's.”  
"Later… when, sir?" Ginny asked immediately.  
"All in good time," the wandering smile widened a little. “Today we will talk about the unreal. What is unreal? I am not asking for a definition, there is no clear definition. Just examples. Mr. Ferguson?”  
"Er ... visions? Dreams?” the boy stammered.  
"Yes, visions and dreams are not entirely real. Dreams are contained in the depths of our mind, and visions glide across its surface, but both can be part of otherworldly magic. Mr. Duffy?”  
“Ghosts, ghostly creatures, and reflections in the mirror, " he said clearly.  
"Yes, of course, ghosts," said Professor Rice, nodding. “Creatures without flesh have always been an object of study for wizards – because they retain some opportunities to influence the material world, but are almost inaccessible with classical magic. This is what real othermagicians do – they act by keeping their distance, remaining invulnerable. Write down the third rule of my discipline: ‘never get closer than necessary; some things are safer to look at from a distance.’ Recorded? Wonderful, wonderful. Do you have any examples, miss Weasley?”  
"Memories," she said, putting a special meaning to the word.  
Rice closed his eyes, as if remembering something. “Memories, the past – this is a very rich sphere. Do you know about the Patronus spell? Oh, indeed, the school was "guarded" by Dementors last year. Of course you know about it. The Patronus is triggered by bright memories, whether true or fictional. Representations – this will be more accurate. Usually when a person has a clearer idea of what has already happened, the emotions of what has happened will be more vivid, real – this is what the Patronus charm is used for. Dementors are ghosts in their own way, but their ghostliness is quite small. It's enough to make a Dementor vulnerable to the Patronus, a simple spell at the intersection of magic and otherworldly magic – but it's still too small for the Patronus to destroy it. I'm sorry for wandering off the point... Yes, miss Weasley?  
"How can someone kill a Dementor, sir?" she asked.  
"There are not many such spells, but they are usually very powerful and require special skill. The most famous and most dangerous of them is the so-called cursed Hellfire. In any case do not try to use such magic! Only a wizard who has mastered both the classics and othermagic, and is clearly aware of what he is doing and how, can keep such spells under control. Otherwise, they might kill him and everyone around him. Dementors, perhaps, too, but is a mage's life worth the existence of a pair of dark creatures? No more questions? Wonderful. Let's return to the topic of the unreal. What examples can you give, miss Lovegood?  
"Dreams, hopes," the girl smiled. “Desires, images, and thoughts.”  
“Yes,” a long glance at Luna who did not flinch, continuing to look somewhere through the teacher. “Something that connects our inner world and the outer world. The information itself doesn't mean anything. And the emotions itself don't affect anything either. But if one is connected to the other in the mind of a wizard or someone with a special talent ... Write it down. ‘Any otherworldly phenomenon occurs when something real is connected with the unreal by some force.’ For example, a prophecy is a link between the image of the future and the seer. A Ghost is the connection of an imprint, shadow, or reflection of the soul with something in the earthly world. This place," he waved a hand at the transformed office, "has emerged from a connection between two, shall we say, planes of our world – both equally real to themselves, but unreal to each other... but we won't go deeply into such complex matters just yet. We'll get to the specifics. So, any othermagical phenomenon is the relationship of real and unreal. What happens if this connection is broken?  
"Will the phenomenon disappear?" Anthony suggested.  
"Very good, Mr. Duffy," said the Professor, nodding. “It won't necessarily disappear at all. A strong enough object tends to cling to something" he looked at Ginny, and she froze, realizing. Then he looked at the unruffled Luna.”This is especially dangerous for us othermagicians. We stand on the border of the real and the unreal, crossing it in both directions, we are, in a certain sense... closer. It's easier to hang on to us. That is why we must be careful with any other reality. What is rule number three?  
"Look at it from a distance, in safety," Anthony said without hesitation.  
"You should know that, Mr. Duffy," Rice said. “Keep your mind," he touched his brow with his wand, "and your heart," he touched his chest with it, "closed to unreal. And sometimes - closed at all. After all, what does rule number one sound like?  
"Some things aren't what they seem," Ginny said. “Will you show us how to distinguish between dangerous things?"  
“As far as possible, miss Weasley. There is no perfect method, and each of you will choose the most suitable one. So, we have considered the very essence of the unreal. Now a few definitions. Every unreal thing has what is called an essence. This is the center, the core, something that expresses its individuality... for a ghost, the essence is the imprint of the soul. For a Dementor, an evil spirit. For a prophecy - the image of the future. In addition, every unreal has a form, a manifestation. A Ghost has a ghostly body. A Dementor - its semi-material form, I can tell you, is very... ugly," the Professor grimaced. “In prophecy, these are words or visions. Usually the form is directly related to the entity, but remember rule number one: some things are not what they seem. The essence is the foundation of any otherreal thing, a form is its manifestation… There is another aspect.  
Communication. As I said before, for the unreal to become otherreal, you need a bond held together by some force. Often this is magic, but not always. And on the other side of the connection is an extremely important thing for us – an anchor. The thing, the object, the phenomenon that the unreal clings to, so that its essence gets shape in the real. For a ghostly creature, the anchor is the place of death. In some cases, the ghosts can't get far from it, in others, they can fly thousands of miles, but there is always an anchor. Break the anchor and the Ghost will disappear. In rare cases, ghosts can change their anchor. And in the rarest cases, the anchor is an object." Ginny shuddered, "a person, or even a state of affairs! Of course, destroying an anchor isn't the only way to destroy a Ghost, but it's the most reliable one. As for the prophecy, the anchor is the prophet himself, as well as all the objects involved in it. Destroying a prophecy is much harder than destroying a Ghost. Dementors..." Rice frowned. "Unfortunately, the mages couldn't find the Dementor's anchor or even its connection, or they would have been destroyed long ago. Now the efforts of the Ministerial Mages of otherreality are focused on how to turn Azkaban into an anchor for these creatures. Then we would be able to destroy it and expel the Dementors from our reality.  
And now the most important thing. Every human being is a connection of mind, soul and material body, unreal and real, and our essence is the soul, our form is the mind, and our anchor is the body. This system is very reliable, it is enough for ordinary people, even wizards, not to disappear into the land of visions and dreams. But we are othermagicians. Sometimes we will make our bodies unreal. Sometimes the unreal will break the connection between our body and soul, change our shape, our mind and inner world. We need an extra anchor, and it's better to have more than one. A wand could be a natural anchor, but we will take it with us on our journeys into the unknown.”  
“So, for the next week, I have an important task for each of you. Select an anchor. It should be a material object that is not related to the unreal in itself, perhaps rather big, but durable and reliable. You don't have to carry it around all the time, but you will still be around it often, creating and strengthening a connection with reality. The anchor will be something that you will grasp in the most dangerous situations, something you will escape to from the evil spirits, nightmares and entities of the other side. If you get lost, it will be your beacon, if you get tired, it will give you strength, if you want to go into the other, then push off from it. But try not to choose something like Hogwarts as an anchor," the Professor smiled. "Don't take this choice as final. However, some student anchors serve the magician all his life faithfully. Think and choose. This concludes the lesson. Please feel free to leave!"  
The office returned back to its original state of disrepair. The students started to leave, but Rice called out to the last of them:  
"Miss Lovegood!”  
“Professor?” she stopped and turned around.  
“Come closer.” He stared at her intently, and Luna showed no sign of concern. “Very unusual. Do you know, miss Lovegood, that you are an almost perfect othermagician?”  
Her gaze focused on his face. "My father told me.”  
"This is a very dangerous talent," the Professor said carefully. “What are you doing to... stay here?”  
Luna touched the radish earring on her ear. "An anchor," she said, touching the corkscrew necklace, "and two more."  
"Very well," said the Professor. "Anything else?"  
"I don't look at people," she said, her eyes clouded again, focusing far behind the Professor. "I'm looking at the wrackspurts.  
"Wrackspurts... exist?" Rice asked slowly.  
"Already yes," Luna chuckled. "They're harmless, really!”  
"That's enough for the time being, and later we'll see how we can supplement your father's system. Xeno came up with a very good idea, but your gift is developing. Try not to think about the future and the past too much, okay?"  
"Here and now, leave then for later."  
"Xeno's doing a great job," Professor Rice said.  
"Of course, sir," she agreed in an absent, otherworldly voice as she left the classroom.


	3. Dangers

...which means he didn't wish him to be neat. Anthony grimaced as he turned the corner and broke the family's eavesdropping spell. Just wonderful. A dangerous subject that cannot be discarded. His father forbade it. Just wonderful. Anthony hated danger and risk with all his heart. No, he wasn't one of those weak-willed Hufflepuffs like Graham, who lingered until the last moment, or even cowered somewhere under the bed with fear. He just preferred to avoid problems. And now he was literally forced to face them. Anthony was able to find out something about the magic of otherreality . And the most important thing is that it is dangerous. Dangerous! And he couldn't give it up.  
"Perhaps I can help you, heir?" a cold female voice behind her.  
He stopped and turned slowly. A figure in a scarlet cloak with a deep hood that completely hid her face leaned toward him. An adult sorceress? He had never seen anyone like this among the teachers!  
"Who are you?" the wand slid into his hand.  
"Someone who will help you," she said, her voice was cold and indifferent, and there was a hint of an accent in her speech." – You're looking for safety, Anthony Duffy. I can give it to you."  
"In exchange for what?" he asked.  
"I like your balanced way of thinking," the woman said with confusing approval. "You're concerned about security, aren't you, Anthony Duffy?"  
"How do you know?" he took a slow step back.  
"I've been following you," she said bluntly. "All of you.”  
"Those who signed up for otherreality? " he asked. She watched ... he was afraid. Not much yet, but it was scary.  
"I couldn't predict with certainty who would sign up for it," the stranger replied, adding vaguely “I am forbidden to learn certain things by any means other than synchronous observation. Now I know all four candidates from the third year. I must make sure that there is no one among you who would be a threat to the Balance.”  
"Balance? What are you talking about, Mrs." he lowered his wand, but didn't put it away.  
"My name won't tell you anything. You can call me the Keeper – that is a fairly accurate reflection of my functions. Anthony Duffy, you are definitely not a violator – and you can help me. I will ensure your safety throughout your life, and you will find out if there is a person among the others that is dangerous to the balance of the world cycles. This is an important mission, and in addition to the reward, you can count on a sense of satisfaction that you have kept Balance.  
“What is the balance?!” Anthony could not stand the flow of incomprehensible information.  
"The certainty that was originally laid down" the woman replied, still cryptically. “The balance of conditions and opportunities that determines the course of events. What guides the past and the future in each of the options. I know that one of the students with you may be a violator of Balance. The consequences of such a violation are unpredictable, Anthony Duffy. You don't want your reality to stop existing, do you?”  
“No, I don’t,” He shivered at the indifference in her voice. Either this Keeper was indifferent to the existence of his reality, or she hid her emotions well. “Why should I believe you?"  
"A gift," she said shortly, and held out her hand. In the palm of a black leather glove was a stone: black, streaked with dark green, beautiful and glossy.  
"You're holding it with your glove!" Anthony said immediately. It was such a simple trick to hold out the damned thing while holding it in a glove.  
The stranger unhesitatingly removed the stone and took it in her pale, bare hand.  
"Don't look for deception," she said, her tone always indifferent, and with a sudden movement she seized Anthony's hand and, before he could react, laid it on the stone and her own. He jerked his hand away, but she didn't hold. "It's safe. You can give it to the teachers to study – but not to Snape or Dumbledore, they'll keep it for themselves. The stone is... magically neutral, that's what they call it. Offer it as your anchor to Professor Rice, if you trust him more than me."

The three met at the class of otherreality. Anthony was frowning, Ginny was serious and thoughtful, and Luna, as always, was in the clouds. Professor Rice appeared as soon as Ginny touched the door handle – with a sharp cry-question:  
"Rule number three!"  
Ginny snatched her hand away, and Anthony recited grimly:  
"Some things are best kept away from."  
"From now on, I strongly recommend that you be extremely careful with your usual surroundings. Look. Peer. And where, uh, is Mr. Ferguson?"  
Rice turned – Graham was indeed almost running toward the classroom. “Lost in the corridors!”  
"Try not to be late for my classes again. I value punctuality and accuracy in my students, but in the unreal, the inaccurate and unpunctual sometimes "– a precise pause – " don't survive. Do you understand, Mr. Ferguson?"  
"Y-Yes, sir," the boy blushed.  
“Quite well. Now tell me, why did I stop Miss Weasley from opening this door?”  
"Uh-uh… was it dangerous, sir?" Graham said, catching his breath.  
"How did I know it was dangerous?"  
"I don't know, sir."  
"Perhaps you can guess, Mr. Duffy?" the teacher turned to the scowling boy.  
"You made the door dangerous in order to teach us something," he suggested calmly.  
"Yes, of course. Let's say I saw this door for the first time. How would I know it was dangerous?”  
Anthony turned to the door and examined it carefully. The most common iron door with a lock, of which there were a lot of Hogwarts. Iron door. Suddenly he realized... a moment later than Ginny:  
"The door is made of iron, but it used to be made of wood!" she exclaimed.  
“Appearance” Professor Rice nodded approvingly. “Yes, that's the wrong door. And some things, as you know, are not what they seem. I might have assumed it was a non-door. That is what we, othermagicians, call things that retain some basic properties, but at the same time change, even distort their functions! Non-doors lead the wrong way. A good option is if they just lead to another place. For example, to the Forbidden forest or Hogsmeade. Bad option: they can lead to a different plane of reality. It is very bad if the non-door leads to the unreal. Sometimes even a othermagician with good training can get confused, disappear, dissolve into visions and dreams, illusions and shadows behind such a non-door. But there is an even worse option.”  
There was tense silence. Graham took an involuntary step away from the door. Non-door.  
"Let someone out," Ginny suggested.  
“That's right, miss Weasley. Two points for Gryffindor. Such non-doors are rarely noticed by an ordinary magician, and if they do, they do not pay attention. But you and I will see them, they will catch your eye, interest you, a curious othermagician will open the non-door, by hand, spell or with the help of a stranger, no matter. It will open up and let something into our world. What I'm describing has happened, of course, but it's quite rare. Non-doors are rare, and non-doors locking something are even rarer. You probably won't see one in your entire life. There may be other non-things besides non-doors. A key that turns any door into a non-door. Avwindow where the otherplane is visible. A light bulb that "shines" with darkness. A magical picture that fascinates the mind and takes you to the world of dreams. Stairs leading to nowhere. Non-things never affect you on their own. Why? In the last lesson, we talked about connections. Non-things are too unreal to affect the real. Their anchor is very weak and unstable, a slight push is enough, and the non-thing will disappear, disappear without a trace. But if a non-thing creates a connection with a living person…”  
Ginny backed away from the door.  
“Yes, that's right,” said Rice. “Fortunately for you, miss Weasley, you did not become the anchor. To anchor a non-thing, you must use it... as a thing. There are possible options here. Sometimes it is enough to open a non-door, sometimes it is necessary to enter it. Sometimes it's enough to touch a non-pen to paper or a non-paper by pen, sometimes you need to write a word or a whole phrase, " the teacher turned to the door, looked at it thoughtfully, and then turned so sharply to the students that they started. “There are also non-words and non-phrases. Some of them shouldn’t be written, some - spoken and some even thought! But we'll talk about that later. The most important thing to remember is rule number one. To remember and to be vigilant everywhere!”  
"Like Moody," Ginny whispered to Graham. He nodded in agreement.  
“Non-things are rare, but to feel their unreality immediately, you need to train your attention and face them many times at close range. I will try to show as many non-things as possible, so keep your mind clear in my lessons. Now, I want to point out that this door is to the right of the real one. No one noticed? Well, that's expected. Now, the most effective way to destroy non-things" he pointed his wand at the non-door. “Reducto!”  
The invisible pulse of the spell hit the "door" and it shattered into pieces, literally melting into the air! The wall behind the non-door was cracked, but the Professor restored it with a wave of his wand.  
"Unfortunately, real items also break down by Reducto, shatter into pieces, but the remains don't disappear as they do now. You will learn Reducto yourself, and if necessary, ask Professor Flitwick for advice; you can refer to me. Now, please take a closer look at the wall. Does anyone see anything unusual? Mr. Duffy? No? Miss Weasley? Mr. Ferguson? Miss Lovegood, even you - Oh, I see! Do you see a bare wall, miss Lovegood?”  
"A wall, a curtain, and a door," she said in her usual otherworldly tone. "The curtain on the door, sir," she said, and took a step toward the wall. She touched the ... air with a smooth, slow movement? The air shivered as if on a hot summer day, and a piece of wall turned into a door, just an ordinary wooden door leading to the familiar desolate classroom.  
"One Ravenclaw point for intuitive accuracy," Rice said with a small smile.  
When they were seated – Ginny and Luna, Anthony and Graham, as usual - the Professor continued:  
"Miss Lovegood has shown you how you should act in such cases. I made the door less real, just a little, and it, figuratively speaking, disappeared from your view. But not at your hands! It was enough to touch the wall, to express physical disagreement with the fact that here is a wall, not a door – and my simple veil fell. Unfortunately, this only works with simple veils that affect one side of reality, such as visibility-invisibility. A full-fledged curtain would not only exclude the door from reality, but also make the wall almost real – you could even break it with a "Reducto", and the remains would not be lost! However, you can deal with such a veil without touching a wand at all. It is enough to believe that it really does not exist, that it is an illusion, an apparition! This method is still too complicated for you – we will analyze it after the fifth year, if you decide to stay with me. You can also remove the curtains with a wand, " the Professor pointed it at the wall behind him. "Something like this: Verum!” A blackboard appeared in place of the bare wall.  
They spent most of the rest of the lesson practicing the spell. The Professor, without even using a wand, hid objects in the classroom, and the students returned them to visibility. Towards the end, everyone was getting better - Graham was the last to master the spell.  
"Well, that's enough," said the Professor at last. "Verum is a fairly flexible, multi-dimensional spell, and we'll be using it all the way through training. Questions? Yes, Mr. Duffy?”  
"What happens if you throw a verum at a non-thing?"  
"Good question, score for Slytherin," the teacher nodded approvingly. “The first time, most likely, there will be nothing. The anchor of a non-thing, though very unstable, protects it from simply disappearing. But from the second or third time, you will begin to ... understand. Do you know how this spell is translated from Latin?”  
"The truth," Ginny said softly.  
"That's right, miss Weasley. In the case of the veil, the truth is simple - it is not there. But did you notice the sensation when it disappeared? It's like blowing something away with the wind! Something intangible, but still a little real. If the veils were more stable, then from the second or third use of "verum" you would begin to feel their essence. Understand their image, be aware of what their Creator is trying to show instead of the curtained one! Now imagine what would happen if you became aware of the essence of, for example, a non-door leading to real madness? What? No, Mr. Fergusson, you won't go mad, at least not right away, but if you persist, you'll have a chance of losing consciousness and suffering a mental breakdown from the eleventh repetition. The fifth floor of St. Mungo's hospital will take you on an inpatient treatment schedule; usually a couple of weeks of qualified care is enough, but I know of cases when a magician after an ill-advised repetition of "verum" was not in his right mind all his life. So keep in mind that if the veil hasn't disappeared since the first time you cast the truth spell, it's best not to repeat it. And if "verum" brought you some strange images, emotions, thoughts - run away from its goal! Contact me, Professor Snape, or Professor Dumbledore. And, of course, do not repeat these charms in public! The first use sometimes helps to make sure that you are the magician you claim to be, but the second and third ... persistent tries can earn incurable disorders of the mind. In general, you should remember a simple rule: do not cast "verum" to the same subject more than once an hour. I hope for your discretion.  
And now that you've learned the dangers of my subject, we'll talk about your life-saving anchors. I hope everyone has chosen them”. the Professor waited for an unsynchronized murmur of agreement, then went on, " let's start with you, Mr. Ferguson.  
Graham took a round metal watch from his bag and a pendant on a silver chain. “A birthday present from my mom, but I don't wear them anymore."  
"Not bad, not bad. It will be an interesting anchor, especially good for the time sphere," Rice approved.  
"This, Professor," Luna said, pointing to a statuette of some unknown animal that looked like a mix of a Hydra, a lion, and a crocodile.  
"No," Rice said sharply. “It doesn't fit. You need something more ordinary, but at the same time having individuality!”  
"And this?" Luna, not upset, hid the statuette in a bag and took out a light, almost yellow wooden tablet, on which was carved a stylized image of something resembling the flames of a fire.  
Rice went to Luna, picked up the tablet, examined it carefully, and finally spoke:  
“Much better. With proper care, a tree can be much more durable than a human. Miss Weasley?”  
"Sir, I thought," she seemed to doubt her own choice. ”Can I anchor to a flower?"  
"Oh!" said Rice. He frowned, then nodded to his own thoughts. “Yes, of course you can, but the flower should not be magical and long-lived-at the same time. Yes, of course, I have a much better idea. Stay with me after class, please. If someone is interested in watching, you can stay too. Mr. Duffy, what did you choose?”  
"This is a gift, too, sir," Anthony said, producing a green-and-black stone the size of half a fist.  
"A gift, then," the Professor drawled calmly. “Gift… Your father is very well connected, since he was able to find a real anchorite, an anchor stone. I've run into him twice in my life... You're very lucky, Mr. Duffy, but try to hide this rock as securely as you can after you've made the connection. Many magicians are on the hunt for him. I can't even tell you its price in Galleons – it's priceless! If the anchorite changes hands, it is only for important services. Surprisingly, it is magically inert – and it really is the perfect anchor. With it, you will never be lost on the wrong side, other planes and other realities, even if you have to spend more effort on moving. The anchorite is a living legend, like the philosopher's stone. I've heard that Morgana's anchorite knife could kill any otherreal creature, permanently severing not only its connection with the real, but also its very essence... " finally, the Professor looked up from the stone. "Mr. Duffy, the anchors will be our point of attraction, our point of entry into reality. Think of a place that is both fairly secure and top secret. In the case of the others, the anchors won't attract much attention, but the anchorite will… Don't tell anyone, not even me.” He shook his head again. “The lesson is over. Miss Weasley, come with me.”


	4. Choice

“Everyone with us?” Professor Rice looked at the students as he left the office. “ Wonderful. I would like to move you in a more simple way, but Hogwarts blocked all methods of movement, except for fireplaces and portkeys charmed personally by the headmaster. Safety is paramount. Go.”  
They descended from the third floor, met Professor Snape, who gave Rice a curt nod and a grunt of greeting, and passed through the busy corridors. The other students did not notice them, but avoided them.  
"It used to be called a blindfold," the teacher said in response to Ginny's question. “The same veil, but more ... thin. They don't see us, but average images of students. Someone they never pay attention to.”  
“So you can hide from anyone except othermages?” Anthony asked.  
"Alas, no. Eye distraction is too ephemeral to sustain directed attention. If they look for you, Mr. Duffy, this is where they'll find you. But to avoid the attention of outsiders - this is an ideal option.”  
They left the courtyard through the main gate and went to the lonely hut near the edge of the Forbidden forest – the home of Rubeus Hagrid.  
"Professor Hagrid is a very important member of the Hogwarts staff," said Rice, noticing Anthony's disdainful look.  
"He's a bad teacher," Luna said absently. “We were petitioning Ravenclaw to get him fired. He doesn't know anything about crumple-horned snorkacks!”  
"Hagrid is a great teacher!” Ginny exclaimed.  
"You're just friends with him," Anthony said.  
"I'm afraid to go to his classes," Graham added quietly.  
"Allow me!” intervened Professor Rice. “Let me interrupt your argument. It's not for me to judge the quality of Professor Hagrid's teaching, but what I've heard about him makes me compare his approach to Professor Moody's method. A great result, but a lot of risk and focus on topics that are interesting to the teacher.”  
“I told you so!” Anthony smiled triumphantly.  
"Mr. Duffy, did you notice the words 'remarkable result'?" Rice chuckled and Anthony immediately looked down at the ground. "Professor Hagrid's OWL scores are better than Professor Kettleburn's... but injuries in class are much more common. I can't tell which way of teaching is better, but at least Professor Hagrid, despite having a greater love of dangerous creatures than Professor Kettleburn, is still intact and doesn't even have any scars... like his students. He knows his business. However, I wanted to say something else entirely. Rubeus Hagrid is the best Keeper of the keys, I know; and, believe me, I've known a lot of them.”  
“The Keeper of the keys?” Ginny asked, puzzled. “I've heard Hagrid called that, but... what does it mean?"  
“The Keeper of the keys, the Keeper of Hogwarts” shook his head Rice. “I'm sorry you don't know such important things. Hogwarts is not for nothing called the safest place in magical Britain. No external threat can bypass the castle's magical barriers ... unless they are opened from the inside. The Hogwarts barriers are linked to three people-the headmaster, the Deputy headmaster, and the Keeper of the keys. If he forbids someone to enter the castle, then the barriers will not allow it, no matter what sophisticated magic the enemy should use; unless - they break through by force. Alas, barriers don't work well in the modern world when the Minister of magic or the headmaster just has to order Hagrid to let someone in…”  
"But Sirius Black!" said Graham.…  
"Black, Mr. Fergusson, must have been helped from the inside," the Professor said, " it's possible that the Director was setting a trap for him, deliberately opening access... but I didn't go into the details of this case. It is known for sure that no one was killed by Black's penetration, and therefore the Director's plan, at least, did not fail. We should be interested in a completely different aspect. The Keeper of the keys is the one who stands between the real and the unreal, the one who does not allow any non-thing or spirit to enter Hogwarts, which is so attractive to other creatures, and even ghosts, if they want to enter, have to ask his permission. And Professor Hagrid is so resistant to any kind of othermagic that as long as he's alive, the otherreal threat can only come from you, my students. Those who will open the door to another, from the inside. I hope you won't do that.”  
"We won't, sir!" everyone exclaimed in unison, except Luna.  
Rice smiled and knocked on Hagrid's door.  
"Who's there? Oh, Ethan, is that you... and yeh brought the kids with you? Well, come in, then."  
The six of them, considering how huge Hagrid was, were cramped inside. However, the students were not crowded – they listened to the conversation of the professors.  
"Rubeus, I hear you and Pomona have been doing magic rowan lately?"  
Hagrid smiled broadly. "Severus and Mr. Ollivander have already visited us, sayin’ it's growin’ perfectly. I wasn't tricked by the Frenchmen, when they sold the seedlings. What, you want to take yeh friends to see it?”  
"Not exactly, Rubeus," Rice said, smiling back.  
"What are yeh, what are yeh!” Hagrid exclaimed, at a loss for words. “Yes, take ‘em, we have a lot of ‘em, Professor Dumbledore said: for educational purposes we give without payment. At least now I can take it!”  
"I'll be glad to, Rubeus," Rice said, nodding.  
"Ah –" Ginny began, but Anthony said, "uninitiated!" and she stopped.  
"Follow me!" Hagrid called loudly, pushing the door open. "Fang! Fang!”  
The dog ran out from somewhere in the direction of the Forbidden forest and ran towards Hagrid, tail wagging.  
“Look out!” he turned to the others. He waved a hand in the direction of the Quidditch stadium. “Keep up, it’ll be dark soon!” unhurriedly by his standards, the others had to almost run, headed in the direction indicated.  
Rowan landings were behind a few hills behind the stadium. There really were a lot of rowan trees: almost a hundred already strong seedlings.  
“These one’s, choose! But don' take it from the other side, Pomona and I are testin’ all sorts of fertilizers and spells, and some o’ the trees are startin’ to move…”  
"That's what Hagrid is all about," Ginny chuckled softly.  
"They shouldn't have done that," Duffy said just as quietly. “The Ministry doesn't approve of this.”  
"And Hagrid is not hopeless," said Luna thoughtfully, focusing her gaze on the woodsman with obvious interest.  
Only Graham was silent, looking curiously at the landings.  
"This one," the Professor chose almost immediately, pointing to one of the nearby rowan trees, which had just been low in height compared to its neighbors.  
"Are yeh gonna take two, or will one be enough?" Hagrid asked.  
"My student will choose the second one," Rice said. “Try to feel the seedling as your wand. Perhaps one of them will attract you?”  
Ginny tried it. She went to one tree after another, touched them, tried to feel them like a stick... with no result. At last she was quite far away, and Hagrid called out:  
"Be careful out there! Chimera seedlings! Don' touch ‘em!” he hurried over to her with Rice.  
But Ginny didn't seem to notice the warning. Something drew her to a very small bush with crooked shoots. As they approached, the bush swayed to meet them. Ginny slowly raised her hand... the sapling slowly touched her with a branch…  
"He likes you! This one, be careful with it, it might scratch yeh."  
"Interesting choice, Miss Weasley," Rice said as he took a step toward the bush, and it tried to hit him with a jerk of the branch – it didn't reach, but the Professor reflexively recoiled. “Quite well.”  
“Can I help yeh with the transfer, or are you gonna transfer it yehself?” Hagrid asked.  
“Ourselves. Thank you for your help, Rubeus" he said, turning to the students. “Hagrid, will you show them out?”  
“O’ course. Follow me!”  
"I'll ask you to stay, miss Weasley."

Anthony wasn't surprised when a cold female voice called out to him halfway to the Slytherin common room. He would have been surprised if it hadn't happened.  
"You have made sure that the gift is safe and useful," she said. “I'm still offering you a deal. After you find the balance breaker, I will extend your life and give you security for the entire length of it. Do you agree?”  
“What will happen to the intruder?” Anthony asked. He knew that he was facing someone very powerful and that she might be able to keep her promise. But to agree immediately, without discussing all the nuances is just stupid.  
"The intruder will be eliminated," she said, apparently noticing the way he twitched. “I can't be sure what the liquidation will be. If there is enough isolation – I will do it. Killing is not the best way.”  
He accepted the answer and asked the next question:  
"What if I don't want security?"  
"I can give you what you want," he said, still in the same tone, and Anthony shivered as if he were under a freezing spell. “Knowledge. Power. Happiness. Power. Change of scenery.”  
“Change of scenery?” he seized on the incomprehensible offer.  
"There are countless stable and unstable realities," the Keeper explained. “I can transport you to any of them you choose. What kind of world would suit you?”  
"Wait!” he held up his hand. His head swam with the prospect. “I have to choose one or the other?”  
Her hood bobbed in a sort of nod. “What do you want with all your heart, Anthony Duffy? You can think until you fulfill your end of the bargain," she agreed, unexpectedly easy. "Do you agree?"  
"Will you make an unbreakable vow?" Anthony blurted out. He thought there was something wrong with that sentence, but what?  
"I won't," was the instant answer. “No one else can know about our deal. There should be no clues. Information tends to spread. I must hide my interference for as long as possible. I gave you a gift, Anthony Duffy, and I can give you an advance.”  
"What happens if I can't find the intruder?" Anthony asked after a moment's thought.  
"Nothing will change for you. I'll probably have to make a less balanced decision and eliminate all potential violators." She continued. “If you find the intruder and don't report it to me, I will erase your existence from this and the nearest lines of reality as a disturbing factor. You have exactly five minutes to think. After that, I will erase the events of our conversations with you.”  
"But it will erase..." he realized. “I don't have a choice…”  
"I agree," he said.  
"You made the right choice, Anthony Duffy. Listen carefully. You should watch your fellow students carefully. I need to know who and when exactly will contact you from the other reality line. I do not know when this will happen in this line; unfortunately, my power here is limited right now. I know this is going to happen. It will probably happen this year or the next. You may not be contacted, but you are close enough to notice if something has changed in their behavior.”  
"You mean just being an informant?" Anthony said, disappointed. He was waiting for something more.  
"This is just the beginning," she said. “I need to know when the contact will occur. After that, you will receive additional instructions. Go, ten minutes and five seconds to lights out. You'll make it. I'll give you the advance later.”


	5. Intervention

Graham "caught" Professor Rice at the door of the Great hall after lunch. He whispered "verum" at the exit of the hall, and got a result. The Professor looked back at him in some surprise and motioned for him to follow.  
"Good afternoon, Mr. Fergusson," Rice said gravely, reminding Graham of his uncle in the same slow, measured way.  
“Good afternoon, sir,” Graham hesitated, as always, unable to ask a question. How he was angry for his own eternal slowness! But Graham couldn't help it.  
“What would you like to know?” the Professor helped him.  
"I ... it's just that of all the professors, you should know the most about it. I've been thinking since you mentioned ghosts. They are not someone from the afterlife…”  
"Not from beyond the grave. Although it is more than an interesting phenomenon" the Professor nodded. “So what do you want to know? Don't hesitate to speak directly.”  
"Professor, sir, is -" he gathered his courage and blurted out "is there a God?"  
"I won't ask what prompted you to ask that question," Graham made a sigh of relief. He couldn't quite explain it to himself, let alone to anyone else... " But the answer is not easy to understand. Tell me, what is God?”  
"Omnipotent, omniscient, just, and merciful?" Graham tried to formulate.  
"A biblical, Christian God..." the Professor drawled. “I don't know the answer. I haven't found any direct evidence of its existence or interference, but that doesn't mean it doesn't exist. The universe," Rice waved his hands around, "is infinitely large and full of wonders. If you want to ask about the afterlife, I have come across several, let's say, afterlife plans. But it is wrong to consider them as final, the place of the end of the path, as the last reward or punishment. Purgatory at best. But you may be interested to know that I have encountered Forces capable of creating and destroying worlds, universes, and realities. I have encountered beings powerful enough to do this, I have witnessed some acts of Creation, and I have seen several Apocalypses. I have come a long way through other planes and worlds of existence, as befits a wizard of otherreality who claims to be a master.”  
"Thank you," Graham finally said.  
"I understand that this is not the answer you would like to hear. But you remember rule number one, don't you?"  
"Some things aren't what they seem? But what does it have to do with it, sir?"  
"Every rule has its own special cases, Mr. Fergusson. One of the special cases of this rule is that some things are much more complicated than they seem. This is the question of God. I won't recommend literature, but later... say, when you feel the need, ask Madame Pince for a book ‘About the eternal and divine’. It is not in the Forbidden section, because there is no practical knowledge and it is very difficult to understand, especially at a young age. Most often, she is interested in guests of Hogwarts in the summer or new professors during school hours. On otherreality, we will touch on these matters briefly – but, of course, every othermagician sooner or later faces such questions in practice.”  
"What do you mean, when you feel the need, sir?" asked Graham, still confused.  
"Just trust your feelings," the Professor chuckled. "Tell me, is it time to read this book?"  
Graham shook his head sharply:  
“No! It's... like something inside said it wasn't the time! Is this normal?”  
"It's unusual, Mr. Ferguson," Rice said with a thin smile, " but it happens. Now I'm sorry. I have to go.”  
“Professor!” Graham called to Rice, who was walking quickly away. "Professor, are you like me?"  
"Some things, Mr. Ferguson" he said, turning back with the same smile, " are not what they seem.”

"...No, Albus, " Ethan Rice sighed wearily, looking at the headmaster of Hogwarts. Professor Dumbledore rarely called him into his office and generally preferred not to touch him, trusting him. This time is an exception. And, in truth, he understood Albus perfectly, and would have done the same in his place.  
"If not you, then who, Ethan?" Albus frowned "it's been a long time since I've seen the future so... confusing. Ever since the Sibyl uttered that prophecy.”  
"But that prophecy wasn't about my future," he said. “Trelawney's prophecy... is a very unpleasant thing, and it's just wonderful that it didn't go through with it. The Sylph of Time, who is not aware of himself, is terrible.”  
"That's why you decided to withdraw yourself," Albus said, shaking his head disapprovingly. “Now I see that the lines drawn by the prophecies are exactly the same. Something's mixed up what is... between the lines. The background, the passage of time itself - they were no longer calm and orderly. I am extremely concerned about this. Your connections outside of our reality are more extensive than mine – are there any rumors, news, important events?”  
"There are some hints," Rice said carefully. These hints had been troubling him for a long time, but only now did the picture begin to take shape. “I can't say for sure, but it seems that our reality has become more closely connected with one or several others, in which time travel is a more frequent thing than ours, even ordinary.”  
“But you're not sure, " Albus said.  
"Perhaps - perhaps that an experienced time traveler has noticed our reality and is about to initiate a chain of events. You should know this: there is no prophecy, but events are definitely shaping up in someone's favor, and any attempt to steer them in the other direction only helps the same outcome.”  
"It's very good that you're interested in finding out what's going on. If necessary, I will provide any assistance within reasonable limits.”  
Rice grimaced to himself. Dumbledore's insight is sometimes so out of place! Of course, he wanted to find out, and he wasn't going to stand by, but Albus didn't need to know. On the other hand, he offered to help.  
"Very well," he said dryly. “If I need your help or need any important information, I'll let you know. Nothing else?”  
"You're too serious, Ethan," said Dumbledore, suddenly smiling. “You have forgotten how to perceive life around you as a great adventure.”  
"Because it's not a big adventure," Rice said with a grimace. “Life is…”  
"...much harder than it looks, " said Dumbledore, smiling. “I know. But if we don't enjoy life, why should we cherish it?” and he chuckled. “You have a special meaning for it, don't you?"  
"I'm a teacher, Albus," Rice sighed, "and don't take it as a brag, all my students have reached heights.”  
Dumbledore's gaze went a little cold.  
"He didn't use his powers very well, but even you can't deny that he was a powerful othermagician.”  
The two wizards didn't break eye contact for a few seconds, and then Dumbledore said:  
“Good luck with your investigation.”  
“It will not hurt, ' said Rice and left the principal's office.

"Today we will talk in detail about your individual anchors," Professor Rice began his third lecture. “Let's start with the theoretical basics. The most appropriate, successful for any entity, no matter whether it is a person or something else, is an anchor, in its own way, resonating with it. What? Oh, I'm sorry, miss Weasley. Resonance is a special response, a special kinship, that when two objects are in some way similar, similar to each other, their contact leads to a stronger connection" the Professor wrinkled his brow "in Muggle physics, this is used in a very interesting way. But never mind. Here we are talking about the resonance of the essence of a person, his soul, personality with the thing that he chose with an anchor. I think all of you will understand this affinity sooner or later... even Mr. Duffy. Anchorite – the most reliable, versatile, ideal, suitable anchor for everyone. Perhaps this fact also somehow expresses the personality? Anyway, you should think about this question. Why? Because the first anchor will be completely individual, we will create it literally intuitively. I'll give you hints, but nothing more. There are ways, including spells, to anchor almost any item, but this connection is still worse than an individual one. And I hope you'll do your best, because the sooner our entire group" he looked around at them "makes anchors, the sooner we'll get down to real practice. Until then, I just won't risk you.  
What, miss Weasley? Yes, of course, I'll tell you where to start. You have to find an idea and feel a kinship with it. Something that expresses your soul. If you find it correctly, then after touching, approaching, looking at the anchor, you will feel... what?”  
"Resonance," Anthony suggested.  
"Of course it is," the Professor nodded. You will have to feel this connection, delve into it, feel it more and more fully… Of course, do it in private. Other students may react inappropriately to the fact that you do not move for half an hour, without taking your eyes off the anchor. You can disguise it as a nap, though. I remember doing that in my time, but I fell asleep too often before I learned to control myself. Does anyone have any questions?”  
"How long is it?" Graham asked.  
"From a day to months," the teacher shrugged, and winked at Graham. "All in good time. And now...“  
"Oh!" Luna cried loudly. Everyone turned to look at her. The girl was trying to ... get up?  
“Well, finally! Minus five points from Ravenclaw for inattention. Can't anyone get up? As expected. No, it's not a spell of bonding, and "finite incantatem" to it is useless, Mr. Duffy, Miss Weasley. Miss Lovegood, what are you…”  
Luna shrouded in a haze and disappeared. Just disappeared.  
"Out of place," the teacher said, shaking his head. "It's early, early… I ask everyone to stay in their seats... it's still quite... difficult to get up from non-chairs, " Rice chuckled, and his image faded, as if fading, until it finally disappeared from the classroom.

Luna resisted with all her might. The chair, or rather, the non-chair, was too much like a non-mother, and it didn't let go, it didn't let go! It seemed to her that the chair had grown teeth like a gastropod, or even a time-eater, which itself is a big mouth! Don't think, don't think about time-eaters!  
For a moment, she realized that she knew how. Of course! What could be easier? A non-chair is non-thing, why not make it a thing? Just imagine and believe – with all heart and soul – so simple and so difficult…  
It seemed to her that some invisible threads were being pulled. That something cracked loudly. That crystal shattered and thunder rumbled in the distance. That the world had crumbled into a myriad of colored glass and reassembled. Or was it just her imagination? What a beauty! Oops!  
"Oh," Luna said aloud.  
It hovered in a dark gray fog. She felt dizzy – as if she was falling, but not falling. She felt sick. There it is drifting or swimming nearby (but how?) A chair, a real chair, receding into the distance. Luna tried to swim, but it was no use – it was fog, not water. And why isn't it sinking? With a twitch, Luna slowly turned upside down and back, but it didn't float anywhere – or did it fly?  
She felt sick again, but the rotation seemed to bring her back to her senses. Luna closed her eyes and imagined stopping. The rotation stopped. Luna opened her eyes cautiously. The same fog, so dreary… A single wrackspurt, unbearably blue and bubbly, was flying around. Luna waved him away, spun around again, and when she could stop herself, the wrackspurt was gone. It was definitely not hers, so someone was here. It remained to find this "someone"!  
Luna, on a whim, imagined a road leading to an unknown someone... and hit her knee painfully, falling on the yellow bricks that made up the road that went somewhere into the fog. But she had imagined just a path!  
There were distinct gaps between the bricks. They won't fall, will they? As if reading the thought, the nearest brick flew down somewhere. Luna hurriedly bounced further down the road. The bricks where she'd been standing slowly fell off – what kind of spell was holding them? – and disappeared in the fog. Taking the hint, she hurried down the road. In less than a couple of seconds, the game was over. She leaped into the void by inertia... bricks flew from somewhere below and caught her feet. Brick by brick, rapidly, fascinatingly, the road was built further with a clear slope somewhere down. Luna looked back and saw the bricks crumble behind her. So she must run forward to avoid falling?  
And she ran - down the road that lined up right under her feet, collapsing behind her, faster and faster, through the fog – somewhere to the man with the bright blue wrackspurt. She wasn't completely out of breath, but it felt natural, like a dream. As well as the fact that the bricks began to change color, darken, become dirty and brown.  
It is unknown how long she ran, but when the bricks turned dark brown, the road opened up into a whole ... clearing? A clearing of bricks, with the green stalks of an unknown plant intertwined between them, and the edges of the plant intertwined with itself, forming a thicket – a thicket in the air? – and in the center, near a small fire, a human stood cross-legged.  
Luna came closer, suddenly remembered, looked back cautiously - no, only the road was destroyed, the clearing remained intact. Was it held by the plants? It didn’t matter! She turned and walked over to the human, eyeing him curiously. There was no mist in the clearing, but her silhouette sometimes became hazy, as if losing its shape. In a dark brown robe that matched the color of the bricks, with numerous holes and patches, somewhat resembling the robe of Remus Lupin, Professor of DADA last year, he was completely motionless. As she approached, the human's head snapped up, piercing her with bright blue eyes, and the familiar wrackspurt landed on the palm of his hand.  
“Greetings.”


	6. Contact

“Greetings" the girl by the fire smiled, tossing the wrackspurt into the air – he immediately flew off somewhere in the fog – and throwing back the hood of her hoodie.

Luna almost blurted out: "Hermione?" so similar was her hair: thick, shaggy, and brown. Exactly - to a tee! But the eyes – the eyes were different. Bright blue, piercing, attentive. Luna sensed the stranger. Yes, it was as unreal, as illusory as everything around it, but ... not quite? Illusoryless? Ambivalent, contradictory!

“Hi. I'm Luna," she said, and sat down cross-legged next to her.

"I'm Eliza," the girl said, smiling broadly. "My bonfire is your bonfire. What are you doing in my dream?”

“I am here accidentally!” Luna imagined what it would look like from the outside and giggled. “Are you an othermagician, too?"

“No,” Eliza was looking at her with the same curiosity that she must have been looking at Eliza herself. “Lucid dreaming, like, practicing”.

“Lucid dreams? What are those?” asked Luna, interested.

“Well, when in a dream you usually don't realize that you're dreaming, but you can learn to be aware of it. This is awesome! Here, look, in a dream you can do this.”

She waved her hand. The fog around the clearing was lifted by a strong wind. Overhead, the sky was light blue and cloudless. The green stalks behind the bricks disappeared, dissolving like smoke, and the dark brown patch of bricks hovered at a great height – Luna had never been so high on a broomstick! – over a strange yellow wasteland. Far below, Luna could see sand being lifted by gusts of wind between conical sand-colored rocks. Some of them were simply huge, almost reaching up to their clearing… As if the stalagmites of the desert were from the caves of giants!

The feeling of spaciousness overwhelmed Luna with delight. She stood up, looking around in the dry, cool wind, squinting her eyes against the bright sun. She wondered what kind of animals were down there? She could see patches of green – cacti? In a desert, even in this strange one, cacti must grow! And if there are cacti, then there are at least some insects. Dad told her! She wanted to know who lives there.

"This isn't just a fantasy? What is it?" she asked, turning to Eliza.

"Of course not!” she chuckled, then frowned slightly. ” Actually, I don't quite understand what it is. You see, I go through the dreams of some of my friends, and one of them has very realistic visions! Sometimes all of us even get a glimpse.”

“All of us?” asked an interested Luna. Eliza was so... interesting! “ All friends?”

“Aha. There are eight of us, but we never really met all together, only on the Internet and with me in dreams. We are all planning a big real meeting, but we can't agree on a place and time. But Vera will soon tellus to do it!”

“What is the Internet?” Luna asked immediately.

“Um, how is it – what is the Internet? Two thousand and nine here!” Eliza asked, genuinely surprised.

"Two thousand and nine! So I'm not just in a dream, but in the future?”

Luna's breath caught in her throat. No surprise – only genuine delight. And if she could find out what would happen to them in the past? That might help, right? Or what if the past couldn't be changed? If you change the past, the future would change, and she would see another past that would change the future, and ... Br-R-R! It was better not to think about it and not to ask about the past at all!

"In the future?" What year are you from?" did she believe it?" Right away? With every second of communication, Luna liked Eliza more and more.

“Nineteen ninety-four, ' answered Luna. “Triwizard tournament at Hogwarts!”

“Didn’t hear about it. Where is Hogwarts? And what's the stunt tournament?

“Stunt…” suddenly Luna understood. "You're a muggle, aren't you? Well, a non-sorceress? Let me tell you everything! If you can walk in dreams, then you are definitely an initiate. Imagine…”

And she told her. About the world of wizards. The Statute of secrecy. About Hogwarts, Durmstrang and Beauxbatons. About the Triwizard Tournament. About studies, basic and additional subjects. About othermagic and Professor Rice. Finally, about the fourth lesson and how she got here, in Eliza's dream.

"And you're not lying, maybe you're exaggerating, and that's all" Eliza said thoughtfully after the story. At a questioning glance, she explained. “Too many details plus your clothes and wand are here… I always catch lies in the details of fantastic stories, and there's no place to catch you. I never thought that there was a whole magical world next to us! I'd like to go there… Oh, and you've told me so much! I'm nothing to you…”

And Eliza told her. About the modern "muggle" world. About everyday life, transport, industry, weapons, wars, fashion, politics, advertising, business – a little of everything! About "calculators" that can do things that not every computational ritual can do. About "computers" that are like calculators, only a thousand times better. About "computer graphics", which is similar to live images, only takes longer, but can change as you want – and then about "movies", which were before computers. About how computers ("just comps") can communicate with each other and almost instantly ("sometimes lags... well, delays, lags!") transmit messages typed using the "keyboard" – this is called the "Internet" ("just Internets, as Bush commanded!") and on the diagram and by the look is a real network. The fact that you can "download" all sorts of "programs" to your computer, with which you can communicate simply and conveniently, like connected mirrors!

Eliza was smiling, and Luna couldn't help but shake her head. Eliza must have felt the same way when she heard about the wizarding world! "That's why I said I was a shaman. I have a nickname on the Internet – the Shaman. You can call me that if you want. Oh, my friend, did I load you up too much?”

“Loaded me?” Luna asked, still trying to build up a picture of the muggle world fifteen years in the future.

“Well, I made you think! You're completely lost in yourself. In general, I feel like I'm going to wake up soon – let's make you a dreamID!”

“Dre-what?”

"Um... well... something so I can walk into your dreams myself. You need to come up with something that will be associated with me! Words or images there…”

"Shaman Eliza?" – suggested by Luna. The thought of Eliza waking up and not being able to talk to her again was frightening.

“OK, that'll do" she nodded vigorously. “Now I am creating a dreamID of you... how old are you?”

"Thirteen, why do you ask?"

“I create all my dreamIDs using one template ... in short, so that they are similar to each other. Age, full name, eye color. That is usually enough.”

"Thirteen, Luna Lovegood, gray," Luna said, and then added. "But age changes, doesn't it?"

"I'm an experienced dreamwalker," Eliza said. “I can change dreamID, but usually leave on the acquaintance age. Okay, now close your eyes and remember everything you've learned about me, just in detail”.

Luna tried honestly, but her thoughts kept jumping from one thing to another, mostly to the mysterious and interesting muggle world. She wondered if there were mechanical beasts there?

“All set. We won't lose each other now. That is all, I have to go, Luna,” Elsa smiled – and the world around began to fade. "Good luck at Hogwarts!"

And disappeared, and with her disappeared the "clearing" of stone. Luna glanced down in fright – but no, she did not fall, but remained standing on an invisible support. The blue sky darkened and at the same time the desert became just a black void. The sound of the wind died away. Just breathing, heart pounding, and ... what? It seemed as if something rustled somewhere. Luna raised her wand and shouted loudly to kill her fear:

“Lumos!”

Light gushed from the wand, and Luna screamed in horror. Tentacles moved around her! Purple tentacles, and between them-eyes, dozens, hundreds of eyes! She froze. The tentacles didn't get any closer, just rubbed against each other, making a frightening rustle. But the eyes-the eyes focused on her. Nothing happened for a few seconds, and then the tentacles slowly reached for her.

“Mom!” shouted Luna.

“I'm here, Kitten,” a quiet voice scared her more than the tentacles. Luna shrank and closed her eyes. If she didn't look, nothing would happen, nothing would happen, nothing would happen.…

Something flashed bright and brighter. As soon as it went out, Luna opened her eyes. The light was still leaking from the wand, and bits of charred tentacles and eyes floated in the surrounding blackness. And here was Professor Rice himself.

"You've come a long way, miss Lovegood," he said calmly.

“Professor!" she exclaimed, half in greeting, half in pointing to the tangle of tentacles that rushed toward him.

"Protego," Rice said calmly. The tentacles shattered against the invisible shield around them, but instead of retreating, they entwined themselves in a cocoon of shield charms, surrounded by pulsing purple flesh. "My hand, miss Lovegood," he said, holding out his free arm.

Luna immediately grabbed his arm. Professor Rice described an intricate trajectory with the tip of his wand and shouted loudly:

“Reverse Radix!”

A white haze filled her vision, and when it rolled away, Luna realized that she was clutching the Professor's arm convulsively next to the teacher's desk.

"Let me go, miss Lovegood," Rice said softly. Luna forced herself to loosen her grip. There was something in the warm hand of the professor that calmed, relieved anxiety... “You can sit on the chair. Oh, I'm sorry. No, these are not non-chairs, I returned them to normal as soon as we got back. Mr. Ferguson, how long have we been away?”

"Fifteen minutes and three seconds, sir," Graham said clearly. "Oh, why do I know that …”

"Thank you," the Professor said. "Miss Lovegood - stay here, though," he smiled at her. "The rest of you can leave. I'd like to speak to miss Lovegood in private. We will discuss that contact with the unreal in the next lesson.”

As soon as the others left, casting curious glances at her – Luna shivered – the Professor turned to her and smiled reassuringly:

"It's all right, miss Lovegood. I didn't expect such displays of talent from you so soon, and it's my fault, not yours. I'm sorry to ask, but I need to know – for your own safety. What did you do to go over the edge?”

Luna honestly tried to describe her feelings – how she realized that a non-thing should be made a thing, how she imagined it, how she did it, how everything fell apart like colored glass, and she found herself in a fog. It came back so clearly that for a moment she felt her surroundings blur... just for a moment.

"That's very interesting," Rice commented thoughtfully. “I have rarely encountered this type of transition. The result is unpredictable. So you've moved on – what's next?”

And Luna told him how she had summoned – or made? - yellow brick road. How she ran along it in the fog to someone not entirely unreal. How she found Eliza, who turned out to be a dreamwalker from two thousand nine. She didn't go into details, and the Professor didn't elaborate, just nodded and told her to go on. She described how she did "dreamID" as Eliza woke up, and she was among those... tentacles with eyes.

"Well, congratulations, miss Lovegood, you have established a strong connection with another reality – called Paradox Space," the Professor shook his head, half sadly, half approvingly. “It is very good that you have told everything in detail. Dreamwalking is very interesting and quite safe… if it didn’t happen in the Paradox Space. I will put a few spells on you that will temporarily prevent you from moving to other realities, but this is a temporary measure. As for Eliza's visit to your dreams, remember that she is powerless in them. Whatever there is, you can just drive it out with an effort of will. You can do the same with any nightmare – if, of course, you are aware of yourself. I would have told someone else about special sleep control techniques, but you, miss Lovegood… You will understand everything intuitively. Now for Paradox Space. I advise you not to visit it. Never. This is a very interesting, useful, promising, but incredibly dangerous place. I tell you from my own experience that what you faced before you returned is nothing compared to the dangers that I won't talk about yet. Perhaps by communicating with Eliza, you will learn about some of these dangers: it would be optimistic for me to hope that your contact is not related to where you were thrown after. And I want you to tell me about the next two or three conversations with Eliza if they happen, of course – in general terms. Do you agree?”

"Yes, sir," she was always ready to share something new. And the Professor's distrust of Eliza will pass. She knew for sure that Eliza was a good person!

"One last thing. The Professor took a pendant out of the air – a metal ball on a white thread.

“Point your wand at it. Think about how you don't want to get caught in these tentacles... that you want to stay at home... focus, think! And now loudly shout "radix".”

“Radix!” exclaimed Luna. For a moment, she felt as if something inside her had sprouted out of her into the ball – or back again? "Is this the anchor?"

"Yes, miss Lovegood, this is the first anchor you personally created. It will stay with me so that I can find you if the worst comes to the worst," he said, hanging it around his neck.”Now you can go... and have interesting dreams.”

"And you, Professor!”


	7. Gift

“Anthony Duffy, " he turned at the familiar voice, already approaching the Slytherin living room.

"You may be noticed, Keeper," he said anxiously. He didn't want to be seen talking to a sorceress who was clearly in the school illegally.

"I won't be noticed until the time is right," she said indifferently. "As I promised, an advance.  
She reached out and opened her hand. On it rested a ring, a perfectly simple gold ring. Anthony glanced at the hooded face, then at the ring. No, it wasn't a trap – as long as he didn't betray her. But you have to be very, very careful with it! He hesitated, then accepted the ring.

"It's a juju," the Keeper said as if that explained everything. “All you have to do is wish it to hide you from the threats around you, and it will – except for the extraordinary ones. You will be able to pass through material obstacles and ignore any material threat.”  
"What about non-material threats?" Anthony asked. After all, he is a future othermagician, and it is quite possible that professor Rice will teach the same technique in a couple of years.

"A strong enough desire will hide you from this reality to the safety of another," the Keeper replied. “Then you should wait for me to bring you back. Use this path in case of an emergency: it will be difficult to find you. You don't want to be old by the time I arrive. In addition to the active properties of this talisman, there are passive ones, one of which makes it difficult for you to find, including for me, so do not wear it unless necessary, but carry it with you. The best way is on a chain around your neck. Never take it off, even when you put it on your finger – don't give the ring a chance to disappear, it... may disappear in a way I don't understand if you're not careful. Are the instructions clear?”

"Yes, the Keeper," he said, bowing his head in outward recognition of her primacy. "Thank you for the gift.”

"Is there any news for me?" she asked.

"Today in class, Luna Lovegood disappeared into the unreal," Anthony answered. "But Professor Rice returned her. He promised to discuss it at the next lecture.”

“Othermages tend to disappear and reappear,” said Keeper. “If you have any constructive data, go to this classroom" she pointed to the door behind her "when there's no one. Waiting can take a long time: be vigilant.”

And disappeared. Not like Luna or Rice, not like an apparition or a portkey, but in a soft red flash. He thought he saw a symbol in it. Too many disappearances today!

Anthony took a deep, calming breath. Well, he had made a deal, and the results – he looked at the ring and felt for the anchor in his pocket – were impressive. Perhaps she wasn't lying about the danger to the world? Either way, it was worth it. Anthony put on the ring and wished to disappear. Outwardly, nothing has changed. He looked down at himself. The mantle, the body ... it's translucent! Is it invisible? Anthony walked as quietly as possible toward the living room.

Luna fell asleep long and restlessly. Not only the impressions of the day were so... vivid, and there was a nagging worry that if she would fall asleep, also Sheila, one of her roommates, had a cold and was snoring loudly. Determined to learn a silencing charm, or to persuade the headman to take Sheila to the hospital wing to cure her cold, Luna finally fell asleep.

She fell asleep and woke up. Woke up? The unreality of the surroundings was vividly felt – where is it? Tropical island. Sea, beach, surf. There were swarms of wrackspurts of all colors flying around – which would have been fun if she'd known she was safe. Once again, Luna focused, ’looking around’ with a sense of unreality. Is there anything special here? The flair worked surprisingly accurately, immediately covering a not so large area. At the very edge of space, someone was... knocking on the door?

It dawned on her - it was a dream! As soon as she realized this, she felt a sense of power over what was happening. These are just her visions, her mind, its reflections. She imagined herself moving toward the border – and she did. At this point, the island ended in a wall of gray stone. How ugly! The stone became multicolored, matching the swirling flocks of wrackspurts. That's better! Now, who's knocking? A ghostly image flashed before her eyes... of course, Eliza! Luna imagined the door and opened it.

The shaman smiled at her, closed the door behind her, and looked around in awe. "Oh, how real! I've been looking for you for a long time, but it was worth it, wasn't it?”

Luna could feel the sincerity and spontaneity that Eliza exuded on her skin. “And I told everything to the teacher of inreality, and he allowed us to communicate.”

Eliza turned around her leg like in dance – and two chairs appeared next to her. “How's it going?"

"It was bad when you woke up," and Luna told me about the scary-eyed tentacles, the rescue, and what Rice had said about a certain "Paradox Space."

“Paradox Space? No, I've never heard of it," Eliza said. “So now you just have to say the spell, reverse radix, to go back?"

"The Professor said he would put a protective spell on me, and I won't need it," Luna smiled.

“And Did he put it?” Elise raised her eyebrows.

"Oh, no?”

"Or did you just not notice? We'll check when you wake up. You and I have a few hours to talk! I can't stand that much, though, and I'm tired of it myself," Eliza chuckled. “You've told me a lot about yourself, and I've told you more about my world. I'm Eliza Dutton, I'm sixteen and I live in a trailer.”

“Where, where?” Luna couldn't make It out.

"Oh, you don't know!” Eliza exclaimed. "Well... imagine a car... a big car. Two-story! And inside it, there are rooms, beds, even a bathroom! This is how I live. We call them simply RV. You can spend the night in the open air, but usually, my uncle and I find special parking lots. Well, as I "drowned" to the Internet, all the maps and planning are on me, and my uncle just turns a dummy and earns money with his sites. We've traveled all over the States, and if my uncle approves of the June meeting, we'll move to Europe on a barge – we'll travel that too!”

"Like tents?" interested in Luna. "There are two bathrooms and five rooms inside dad's tent. In three of them we keep aviaries, and every summer I paint them with crayons that attract crumple-horned snorkacks.

"What size tent is this?" Eliza asked, puzzled.

"Outside or inside?"

"Is it... er… inside bigger than outside?" how wonderful Eliza is! She immediately understands everything-everything, even without explanation!

“Aha. They must be Muggle-looking on the outside, but inside they're an invisible extension charm. Some travelers carry a chest or even a box instead of tents, but tents are the most romantic!”

"Do you and your father travel a lot?"

"Dad started taking me with him in the summer when I was nine. We were in the Alps, in the Romanian dragon reserve, looking for Manticore in the canadian forests, and next summer we are going to look for blue lilac in Australia!" Luna was already looking forward to this trip.

“And we have a lot in common! Friendship?”

“Of course, friendship!”

Before that, Luna had only had a few friends – just Ginny, and she was more of a neighbor than a real friend. In Ravenclaw, no one wanted to be friends with "strange" – and to give up "oddities" so that one day the non-mother would return... and these "oddities" were part of her. The feeling that someone was interested in her as a friend was ... delicious.

"You didn't have any friends before?" Eliza frowned.

"How do you know?" she can't read minds in dreams, can she?

“You had such delight written on your face…” a soft smile-Luna's heart warmed. “I'll try to come more often, but I have a lot of friends. I go to all of them in my dreams. But I will meet you definitely a couple of times a week!”

"Are you going to leave?" Luna was upset. It's too short!

"What makes you think that?" Eliza was surprised, "well, I'm just jumping from topic to topic, don't mind me, I'm like that. Show me Hogwarts!”

"Show it?" did not understand Luna.

"This," she said, waving her hand around, " is your dream. Can you change your sleep? You let me in on your own, without prompting, did Professor Rice teach you that yet?”

"I have a talent," Luna said bluntly. “Probably, it will turn out... wait... and if…” She closed her eyes.

The whole place was there, but somewhere on the edge of consciousness. Luna tried to clean up the mess first but realized she didn't know how to do it. And then it dawned on her, and she just put everything out of her head, from the very edge of her mind, except the wall and the patch around her and Eliza. She looked around – Yes, everything that was thrown out just became a gray haze. She closed her eyes again and concentrated. Hogwarts…

\- Wow! Eliza exclaimed.

Luna opened her eyes – they were standing on top of the astronomical tower in the early morning. The Hogwarts landscape stretched out around them in the dawn light.

"It worked," she said with satisfaction.

"Luna," Eliza said gravely. "You're a genius.

\-- insomniacShaman [IS] started pestering seekerDao [SD] at 10: 12 --  
IS: Hey, bro. I met a magical girl from the past.  
SD: good morning, Eliza. If you weren't a completely honest person. With no sense of humor. And down-to-earth enough. I'd think you were joking. But you're not joking.  
IS: did you insult me or compliment me?  
SD: I stated the facts. And made a conclusion. Back to the girl. A sorceress from the past?  
IS: imagine, she came to my dream by herself. I managed to make her dreamid, while camping I went back to sleep and was able to get to her in a dream!  
SD: a magical girl from the past?  
IS: sort of; anyway, the first time I met her, she told me a really cool story. I wouldn't have believed it, but you know I'm good at sensing lies?  
SD: Of course. You told me. About a hundred times.  
IS: well, her name is Luna Lovegood, she's 13, and she goes to Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry. they teach you how to use magic wands, brew potions, and fly on broomsticks. it's just super, because she doesn't lie.  
SD: Some mental disorders. They make it difficult to distinguish reality from fiction.  
IS: bro, trust the shaman, she didn't lie about anything.  
SD: the magic girl - okay. From the past?  
IS: 94, bro. 94! and not at all familiar with the "world of muggles", well, the world of non-wizards. they have a statute of secrecy, only non-muggle family members know, and the government probably does.  
SD: Impossible. Or magic is very powerful.  
IS: she's powerful, bro. memory erasure, teleportation, turning some items into others, brooms fly faster than a racing car, you can expand the space so that the tent will fit an apartment. and she and the chosen ones are taught "otherreal magic", "othermagic", such as walking in dreams, past and future, other realities, all sorts of ghosts, etc. from that lesson, she accidentally fell into my dream.  
SD: or wizards control our government. Or their magic doesn't have the limits of common sense. Or Luna from another reality's past.  
IS: um. idk, you're probably right. you always see straight, which is why I told you first.  
SD: I can't get any clarity. Can you please not tell the others about Luna?  
IS: not even Vera? even Kristo?  
SD: no one. Endure. Give me time to understand. I'll meditate on it.  
IS: damn; Vera or Kristo will kill me. or will they do it together?  
SD: Promise?  
IS: I give you my word. just make it quick, I'll break from silence!  
SD: I will start meditating on the threads of dissonance. Immediately after the conversation ends. We need details.  
IS: I have them, bro…


	8. Roads

“Good evening," said Professor Rice, appearing unexpectedly as usual. After waiting for an answer, he asked. "So, does anyone has any progress with the anchor? Miss Weasley?”

"I think I can feel some ... power inside the rowan," she said. "But I'm afraid to touch it."

"Very well, Miss Weasley," Rice nodded, "Perhaps you should try it on other plants. Those that you do not feel sorry for.”

"Thanks for the idea, Professor," Ginny said gratefully.

"How are things with you, Mr. Duffy?"

"No progress," he said shortly and with displeasure.

"An honest answer," the teacher nodded. “You may be thinking in the wrong way. Try to look at the situation from an unexpected point of view. Mr. Ferguson?”

"I'm not sure," Graham said slowly. "Probably not, either.”

"What's your problem, Mr. Fergusson?"

"I think I've found something, too," he said, glancing at Ginny. “But if I try to change this ‘something’, then nothing happens.”

“Well,” the professor narrowed his eyes. "I'm pretty sure you've got the wrong thing. Try again. Take my advice to Mr. Duffy.”

"Very well, sir.”

"Miss Lovegood?"

"Oh," was all Luna said, blushing a little.

"Haven't you started yet, Miss Lovegood?" Rice frowned slightly.

“No,” Luna lowered her head.

"Just because you're talking to a new friend at night doesn't mean you should neglect my assignment," the professor said sternly. “Moreover, the more you interact with her, the higher is the chance of accidentally... falling out. Like it was the first time with you. You don't want to repeat it, do you?”

"But you…”

"No, Miss Lovegood," Rice said, tapping the table with his wand. “My anchor and my magic can't keep you safe forever. We have to face it – and win. And for that, you need my knowledge. And for it, you need an individually configured anchor. So?”

"I'll take care of it today, sir!" Luna blurted out, red to the tips of her ears.

"Very well," a slow nod. “Until you all have anchors, we'll continue our theoretical lectures. But first tell me, what in this class is a non-thing? Addressing your concerns in advance - it is not chairs or desks. So what is?”

"Can I get up?" Duffy asked.

"No," the professor shook his head, tapping his wand. “You should know by now.”

"The wand!” Ginny exclaimed. "Your wand!”

"Or the desk," Graham added.

"A wand,” the teacher smiled thinly at them. “Do you know what you can do with a non-wand? Of course not. A non-wand created by a othermage for himself can literally infiltrate the most unreal places, allowing him to conjure there – when the othermage himself remains in the main layer of reality. How to create non-wands and what they are capable of, we will talk about in detail in the next course. For now, it is enough for you to know that without intermediaries, only a very skilled othermagician can influence other layers of existence without being in them himself; however, this rule also applies in the opposite direction: other layers can rarely directly affect you without an intermediary like a non-thing. Although, of course, one intermediary is always available to them," the professor touched his head with the non-wand – and the non-thing dissolved into a white haze. "Your mind. If you feel an other-danger and can not avoid it – close your eyes and ears – they are natural channels into your consciousness. Focus on an abstract thought, ideally – try to clear your mind, ‘thinking about nothing’. These are the basics of occlumency, we'll talk a little more when you have individual anchors. Oh, I almost forgot. We will write so-called extensions to the basic rules. Write an extension to rule number three: if you act through an intermediary, you divide the response between yourself and the intermediary. And expand rule number one with the following," a quick glance at Graham. "Some things are more complicated than they seem. Recorded? Very well. I will test your knowledge of the basic rules with the extensions at the end of the year – both practically and theoretically.

Any questions? No? That's great. Now we will continue the introduction to the very first, fundamental sphere. Today I will tell you about the unstable, changeable nature of the unreal. I will not speak in strict scientific terms, if you want that, you can look at... Better to record this. ‘The Essence of Illusion’ by A. Stephen or ‘The Flow of Shadows’ by W. Wargen. Restricted section, of course, if necessary, I'll give you access. Everything is written there as accurately and correctly as possible, but, unfortunately, in somewhat archaic English and very difficult to understand, which, however, is permissible for scientific work… It is a pity that we, othermagicians, can not afford a modern textbook on the discipline – I am already thinking about getting an adapted version from another. Anyway, I will speak the language of analogies.”

The professor cleared his throat, drank a glass of water in small gulps, and threw it against the wall. The glass shattered into melting fragments with a dull, ear-splitting screech.

"Imagine the road. Not urban, but old, rural, well-trodden and hard, sometimes even cracked from the heat. There are many paths leading away from it, and they also approach it. If we fix the direction of movement on this road and compare it with the passage of time, we will get a fairly accurate analogy of our reality. The road is the so-called timeline, the line of reality that goes to the infinity of the future in one direction and to the abysses of the past in the other. There are all sorts of paths, winding, intersecting with the road, and sometimes running parallel, but invisible behind the dense forest - these are different plans and reflections of the main line. Sometimes these paths grow into roads no less or even more than the main one – and become parallel realities, time lines. Sometimes they narrow and get lost in dense forests. Sometimes it divides or merges with other roads – the main road. But all this is not dangerous as long as we walk on the hard, baked soil of the road – but the paths can lead into the swamp or be interrupted by the river, while the main line of the swamp goes around, and the rivers are crossed by bridges.

Have you imagined it? And now the most interesting thing will begin – the rainy season. Rains wash away the road, make it unsuitable for travel, and sometimes they cause such floods that people die in the suddenly arrived water. The villages built along the road are washed away, cattle are killed, the paths often become impassable... Such is the unstable nature of reality itself-if the unreal touches the real closely, an all-washing downpour will begin. And sometimes it goes on regularly, wiping out entire civilizations from the face of the earth once in hundreds of years, making no distinction between mages and muggles…”

"But that didn't happen!" Anthony exclaimed.

"What makes you think that?" The professor smiled out of the corner of his mouth. “What makes you so sure that the uninitiated notice anything at all? This is a natural process. Some civilizations are replaced by others in the blink of an eye – changes in the past bring changes in the future. Cultures are melting away, and new knowledge is emerging – but the uninitiated don't see it. For them, the world remains the same as it was before. They are inscribed in a new past and a new future – in "their" past and ''their" future. But one day it will rain again – and they will be washed away in the same way. It's a terrible picture, isn't it, Mr. Duffy? I see that you have fully appreciated it. Fortunately, this happens in neighboring lines, but not with us. Our line of reality is stabilized, in other words, we do not have a rural road, outwardly solid, but easily eroded by rain, we have a stone road running through a large city on a hill inaccessible to floods. And our city is made of stone, not invulnerable to fires. And in the city of our reality, there are people who put out fires and disperse clouds, if necessary. There are still a thousand roads to our city, and if you step on dirt roads, you should be afraid of rains and floods, and when you leave the city for the dark forest – wolves, robbers, fires. But here, in the so-called alpha line of reality, we are safe. Not completely, of course – the city has its own thieves, its own murderers and its own conflicts, but these are intra-city conflicts, rarely associated with external threats. Why do we make anchors and leave them here in the alpha line when we go somewhere else? Here the anchors are safe, our reality is fundamentally unchanged. Do you know about the so-called time-turner? Oh, Miss Weasley, you know!”

"It's an artifact that can be used to travel through time!" Ginny blurted out. “It looks like an hourglass.”

“Yes, of course, this is a time-turner. We may have a workshop on how to use it, but the most important thing is that you can't make major changes to the alpha line of reality like ours. At best, it will turn out that these changes were supposed to happen, just that you didn't know about them. And nothing in the future will change. In the worst case, be prepared that the time-turner will simply throw you off the stone road onto a broken-down dirt road and well, if not in the rainy season! However, the anchor in alpha reality will help you get back, of course, if you manage to stay alive. Do you have any questions?”

"Other cities–" Graham asked curtly.

"Yes, of course, a Hufflepuff point," answered the professor. "A sensible, very sensible question. There are a lot of cities, alpha lines-as many as you want. All of them are of varying degrees of "hardness", if you will, of civilization. Roads are different – not only stone and soil, but also soil with stone are quite different! The alpha line is a full-fledged city, similar to our reality, solid and self-healing, both actively and passively resisting changes from outside and inside. Beta-line is a town that can still be washed away by a strong flood, but which will surely be rebuilt, and simple rains, fires and small robber gangs are not afraid of it. The gamma line is a hamlet along the stone road. The road seems to be made of stone, but sometimes it is flooded, and the villages themselves are not protected by anything. If it is quite safe to be in the beta line, then you should be on your guard in the gamma line. Delta lines are still a stone road, but cracked and in an open field, which can be interrupted at any time by a dirt road,or else run into a cliff.

In such lines only go hung with anchors and in extreme need – however, this does not prevent them from being, often, extremely useful and simply interesting. There are delta lines in which every creature is resistant to changes in reality from birth! Just imagine, everything around you melts and changes, and you get used to living in these changes! Today you are a rich official, tomorrow – poor boy, the day after tomorrow – Professor of Sciences, but always you're you, and you used to change your place in the world like a glove! But enough about delta lines. Worse than them is epsilon-reality. These lines are the same dirt roads, and most of them are. Perhaps I have expressed myself incorrectly. You see, there are as many roads as you want! Infinitely many, no limit! But epsilon-realities are most common. Finally, everything that is worse than a dirt road, more unstable than epsilon, is usually called side lines, paths and branches. Formally, trails are called zeta lines, but in practice this term is usually not used.

And finally, another important point is what is called the background, the canvas. If you continue the analogy, it is easy to understand that a person does not need a road at all – you can walk in an open field, wander through hills, wade through forests, swim along rivers and seas, even climb to the top of mountains! The common place where roads pass is called a real background, otherwise they say, a canvas, a tapestry, a fabric of reality. To walk freely on the canvas is the prerogative of not even masters of othermagicians like me, but those who have stepped over the simple human existence," the professor looked around at the students who were fascinated by the story. "Perhaps one of you, or even I, will be the one who will overcome the boundaries of the roads and walk freely on the canvas into the unknown distance. Now, relax a little, and I will wait for more questions.”  
For a few minutes, the students pondered what was said and banished the bizarre visions of other canvases from countless roads that persistently appeared before their eyes. Luna was the first to recover sufficiently.

"How can I know which line I'm in?" she asked.

"Unexpected practicality," Rhys said. “Ravenclaw point. In addition to direct methods, such as observing how everything changes over and over again, there are also more accurate methods – after all, you can get into the rain and not after it, changing yourself without noticing it. First of all, you should create a magistral. The magistral is a special anchor that immediately extends into the future and past. Simply put, on the proposed ground you need to lay out a stone path – small, but stone. Next, you can link a note or item to the magistral, and later again look if anything has changed. If the note doesn't describe what's around you at all, you're definitely not in the alpha line. This is a simple but less secure method. It is much better to bind yourself to the magistral. Then you will become, even for a while, but independent of the surrounding reality. If necessary, you can extend the magistral indefinitely. By the way," the professor held up a finger, "the alpha lines are made so by the many thoroughfares, the stone paths that merge into one big road, to which everything and everything is tied. If you destroy all the magistrals, the line will become a real delta, or even epsilon. One of the first and largest highways of our reality is Hogwarts.

If you want to find out exactly which of the changing realities you are in, use the spell "globe magistral revelio". It will give you an idea of how many highways and how far they stretch in the surrounding line. After some practice you will be able to immediately tell exactly where you are. Why didn't I tell you about these charms right away? Because if you hit another line with a minimum of anchors - do the magistral first! Remember it, memorize it. I'll show you how to make a magistral this year. Any more questions? Please, Miss Weasley.”

"You promised to talk about where Luna disappeared."

"Oh, yes, it's already the end of the lecture! Of course I'll tell you. You see, Miss Lovegood is a very talented othermagician. In the long run - more talented than any of us, even me! But don't think it's so wonderful. On the contrary, her talent is too great” the Professor shook his head. "Great enough to lead away from the alpha line when it's in my class and has a few pre-prepared anchors. I ask you to treat Miss Lovegood with understanding. She's having a hard time.”

Graham, Ginny, and Anthony almost simultaneously looked back at Luna, who was looking dreamily behind the teacher, as if she didn't hear that he was talking about her.

"At the last lecture," Rice continued, " Miss Lovegood overreacted to the non-chair and used her talent to make it a chair. But you see, the trouble is that my class, Hogwarts in general, and our alpha line are well protected from such involuntary interventions. You can not wish and materialize the object: the reality of the alpha line does not bend under the will of the othermage. But Luna's talent is great enough to make a difference. Contradiction! The universe solved it in the simplest way – by replacing the non-chair under Luna with a completely material one-but not in this place. Simply put, Luna pushed itself out of the alpha line and into the nearest chair. Remember this incident and be careful what you wish for – you may find yourself in a similar situation.”

"Where did it go?" interested Ginny.

"Miss Lovegood," the professor said quietly.

"To a dream," said Luna, looking dreamily at nothing. "Into a very interesting other person’s dream.”

"Where did the chair come from?" Ginny turned to Luna. "A material chair, that's what the professor said!"

"I'm afraid Miss Lovegood can't answer that question," Rice said carefully, " but I guess that's the nature of the reality she was in. But it is possible that she simply did not have time to reach the material chair – she left the non-chair, but only reached the dreamchair, so to speak. And-no more questions, if Miss Lovegood wants to, she can tell you more. The lecture is over, see you in a week.”


End file.
